Just a Drop in the Bucket
by PiperPaigePhoebe01
Summary: PuckRachel. Because everything that happens in high school is just a drop in the bucket compared to what will happen once they get out.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing. Although if I did own Glee, Puck/Rachel would definitely be endgame.

**Author's Note: **Well, I've been reading a lot of fics lately -- and a lot of them are amazing -- but I've noticed they have been rather fast-moving. So this is my attempt to write a fic that is more slow-moving and canon-compliant. This story will try to take into account all events that happen in the actual show, as much as possible with the storyline I will be developing myself in this story.

In this fic, there **WILL BE **FinnRachel and PuckQuinn, but look at the summary for answers as to whether it will stay that way or not.

**Summary: **PuckRachel. Because everything that happens in high school is just a drop in the bucket compared to what will happen once they get out.

**Just a Drop in the Bucket**_  
By PiperPaigePhoebe01_

Chapter One

Allow me to let you in on a little secret.

I was never going to break up with Rachel Berry.

Sure, she still makes me want to light myself on fire, but she does have some perks. She _is _Jewish and has a fucking hot body that she has no problem displaying in those short little skirts and tight shirts. And she does have a pretty good voice, if you separate her singing voice from her talking voice, which sounds like she swallowed one of those SAT prep books whole.

But she didn't let me touch her boobs, so I knew the relationship wasn't going to work out anyway. She was ruining my image with the whole 'good guy' bullshit. Since when I have ever _walked down the halls _with a girl before? And did something for a girl that did not involve some sort of sexual favor in the mix?

Never, that's when.

There was just something about Rachel that drove guys crazy. Just look at Finn! He had Quinn, blonde bombshell, lying about him being the father of her baby just so they could stay together, and he still wanted Rachel. There was no denying it; Rachel drove all the guys loopy. Even when they have a perfectly normal girl, they _have _to go for the crazy one.

I'm blaming it on the skirts.

The skirts and the knee socks.

Anyway, she broke up with me. Except I do not get dumped. In fact, I don't even dump, because I do not have girlfriends. I have hook ups, one night stands, and flings, but never girlfriends. They're just a pain in the ass. You think you're going to get some action and then they spout all this nonsense about not being able to be with a guy who can't sing a solo and then when you go out and do nice things for them they break up with you because they're not over your best friend.

She wanted us to be friends.

That would be impossible.

I do not have female friends. Never have, never will. Especially not female friends who "want everything too much" and have this crazy obsessive relationship with Finn, who is too dumb to realize that you can't get pregnant through a hot tub.

So I'm over it.

My pool business is taking off again and after Glee practice today, I have several appointments lined up. If I'm lucky, I might get lucky.

There was a reason why I swore off high schools chicks.

They're too emotional. They expect you to do all these sappy things for them and then they don't properly appreciate them. But cougars? They expect appreciation and nothing else. And I am _excellent _at appreciating the female body.

* * *

Glee practice following the day at the bleachers was awkward. Finn ended up returning to the club, getting welcomed back with open arms, of course, because Finn can do nothing wrong. Especially when he brings Slushies with him, which is _stupid_, because didn't he just force Kurt to take a Slushie facial the other day?

For some reason, Finn has been getting on my nerves lately. Maybe it has something to do with the whole "taking responsibility for my baby" thing and being with Quinn, but we haven't been anything more than teammates for a while. And to risk sounding like a girl, I have been getting out my frustration over Quinn and the baby by tackling him especially hard during practice.

But Finn being there was not what made it awkward.

No, what made it awkward was the little smile that spread across Rachel's face when Finn walked through the door. She just looked so goddamn adoring, and it was pretty much the _same fucking look _she gave me when I came in. Which is goddamn frustrating, because the only reason he returned was because Coach Tanaka chickened out and removed the extra practice from our schedule.

Fuck it, I gave up football for her.

She should be a little more grateful. I'm the best tackler they have and I gave all that up. And I took a Slushie for her.

But she's a little too busy fawning over Finn to notice. And I only spare her a glance as we are grabbing our Slushies, because fuck her and her short skirts. She doesn't really matter either, in the grand scheme of things. The thing I notice most is Quinn.

She's in normal clothes.

Which means that Coach Sylvester kicked her off the team.

I don't confront her about it, because Rachel is busy fawning over Finn and Quinn does not look in the mood to talk. Mr. Schue does notice her looking upset, so he looks over at her.

"You okay?" he asks, as if it's not fucking obvious.

"Do I look okay?" Quinn says in a soft voice. "Now that I'm off the Cheerios, I'll start every day with a Slushie facial."

Mr. Schue spouted off some cheery shit about her having eleven people to help clean her off if that happened, and everyone agreed. Quinn didn't look too cheered up, but a smile did cross her face, so that was something, wasn't it?

And then everything just turned light and cheery, when Mr. Schue makes the mistake of admitting that he's never been Slushied before. Everyone, Quinn included, exchanges a look with each other, and Artie heads the slow movement toward Mr. Schue.

"One... two... three..."

The grape liquid splashes across Mr. Schue. He takes it like a man too, arms outspread, eyes screwed tightly shut. The Slushies stain his button-down shirt and slide down his chest, dripping down onto his shoes. He lets out a yell as the coldness envelops him, and everyone laughs at the look on his face.

Now that we have all been on the receiving end of a Slushie, it's no longer as funny as it used to be if someone in Glee gets Slushied -- but if it's Mr. Schue, it's pretty damn hilarious. Because in how many other classes can we actually throw a Slushie at a teacher and get away with it?

None, that's how many.

I look around at the other Glee members. Rachel is doing the same thing, and before I can avert my eyes, they meet. For a moment, we just stare at each other, Rachel looking like she wants to say something to me, but then she averts her eyes and the moment passes. I catch Quinn's eye and grin at her.

She smiles back.

Which is a fucking improvement over the last time I had any sort of contact with her. It's just going to get better from here.

* * *

"What ever happened to that nice Jewish girl you told me about?" my mother brings up during supper.

I don't answer for a moment, shoveling Chinese food from the take-out box into my mouth at a record pace. My mother waits patiently for me to chew and swallow. "Nothing happened," I say into my food.

"You should bring her around sometime, then," my mother said. "I would love to meet her."

"Oh, I'm sure you wouldn't," I mutter.

"She can't be any worse than that Santana girl," my mother points out. "Come on, I'm sure we'll get along fine. What's her name?"

"Rachel Berry," I say, then stand up. "And you're not going to meet her."

"Why not?"

"Because it's just not possible," I say as I exit the kitchen.

As I go up to my room, I decide: _fuck Rachel Berry._

It was time to get my baby mama back.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Well, here's the first chapter. At some points, I found Puck easy to write, and at others, I found him hard to write. What did you think of it so far, though? Please review!

I have very big plans for this story… if I can pull it off.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note****: **Wow, thirteen reviews for the last chapter? Thank you so much; that was a lot more than I expected! I'm so glad you all enjoyed it, and I hope you like this chapter just as much, if not more.

There will be use of some—not all—of the episode plotlines from the show in this story, but I will be adapting them for my own use. So don't be confused if you remember some things from the show but things are tweaked just a little in this story. Creative license and all that!

* * *

**Chapter Two**

Breaking it off with Noah Puckerman was a carefully calculated, thoughtful decision that served the interests of both of us. It prevented a full-scale war from breaking out amongst the less civilized, highly immature students of McKinley High—namely the hockey team—and prevented either of us from growing too attached.

Needless to say, forming an attachment to Noah Puckerman would have been a disaster, a catastrophe.

Finn is the right choice for me. Quinn is the right choice for Noah, although I fail to see why he would be interested in his best friend's girl. I assume it is because she was a hot cheerleader, but since I cannot get into the head of a football player like Noah, I can only form a fairly educated guess.

Feelings might have grown between me and Noah. He might have shown a softer side of himself, a side that I never would have suspected the guy who threw Slushies at me on a daily basis would possibly possess. However, the fact remains that it would not have worked out, primarily because we both have feelings for someone else.

If anything was going to happen between us, it would be as friends. I extended a hand to him in friendship, but Noah did not take the opportunity.

And it did hurt, in a gut reaction that I can't quite smother. Although I cannot pretend not to expect it, because we were not friends before, so why would we be friends now? We are from completely different tiers in the social hierarchy, and it is impossible for us to mingle outside of Glee club. That point is easily illustrated by the Slushie he took for me that day in the hall.

A friendship between the two of us is just not going to occur, however much I may want it to. We might interact during Glee, but only because we have to, not because we want to. And I just have to work through that, which I can do, because as a star, I'm going to have to refuse friendships even though it might hurt.

I want Finn, anyway. That didn't change just because I had a short relationship with his best friend. And it might be that Finn will never leave Quinn as long as she's having his baby, but I am Rachel Berry.

And Rachel Berry does not give up.

I might not break up Finn and Quinn intentionally, but there's no way to doubt that I would be there if something happened to break them up and Finn conveniently needed my comfort. Because I might not be a girl who breaks up a mother and a father, but I am the sort of girl who sees what she wants and takes it.

And if I want Finn, even as a friend, I am willing to do whatever it takes to get him.

I still want to be friends with Noah, if only because it would make Glee much easier, but if it doesn't happen, I won't let it bring me down. Because there are more important things in my life than being friends with the best tackler on the football team.

Namely, being a star.

Which I will become after New Directions wins Sectionals and eventually goes on to Nationals.

* * *

The week after Finn returned to Glee club was calm, or at least as calm as it could possibly be considering that Sectionals was in a little more than a month. Even though practice made perfect, and we were practicing all the time, there were just _some _people who didn't get how to hit a high note quite right for maximum impact and, quite frankly, it was driving me slightly crazy.

"No, that's not _right_," I say, cutting off the latest run-through of _Don't Stop Believin' _to whirl on Artie. "You're not hitting that note the way you should. Try it from your diaphragm, expanding your chest out—"

"I know, Rachel," Artie says, rolling his eyes. "You don't have to be such a drama queen."

"I'm not being a 'drama queen,' as you put it," I say, rolling my eyes. "I'm sure Mr. Schue would agree with me when I say that each and every one of our performances _have _to be perfect if we even have a shot at Sectionals this year." I turn to Mr. Schue, who looks as though he wants to sink into the background and not respond. "Right, Mr. Schue?"

Mr. Schue shoots a furtive look around at the rest of the Glee club, as though hoping they would give him a chance not to respond, but he has no such luck. He opens his mouth to say something—but just then someone comes to his rescue.

"Rachel's right," Finn says and I turn to look at him, a small smile on my face. "Sectionals is in a little more than a month, and we do need to practice. Everything needs to be really, really good."

I smile at Finn. "Thank you, Finn," I say. "_Someone _understands."

I can feel Quinn's glare as Mr. Schue tells us to continue _Don't Stop Believin' _from the top, but I ignore her. If things had gone as planned, Quinn would have received this role instead of me, but there was no determining how Quinn's pregnancy would progress over the next month, so Mr. Schue had given the role back to me.

As it rightfully should be mine, I can't bring myself to feel too sorry for Quinn.

As I dance around the stage with Finn, belting out _Just a city boy, born and raised in South Detroit_, I feel… right. His arms wrap around me as we sing the chorus, and I can't prevent the smile that spreads across my face. The two of us have been practicing this song for so long, ever since those first few Glee practices, and finally, it is perfect.

The song wraps up. When the music stops, everything is silent, and then…

The talking begins.

"That was amazing," Finn says to me. "I think we've got this one down."

I smile. "Me too," I say. "We still have to work on making the movements more fluid, but once that's done, this performance could very well win us Sectionals."

Mr. Schue agrees with me, and we go on to practice the rest of our songs. _Somebody to Love _is next, followed by _Keep Holding On. _Since we have already performed _Somebody to Love _in front of a live audience, that song needs less practice than _Keep Holding On_, which would be our main group focus over the next month.

It might strike people as strange to think about how dedicated I am to this song, but the solidarity of Glee club is the most important thing to me. It is more important than any petty high school drama existing between Quinn and I, and after that serious talk with Noah on the bleachers, I have come to realize that there is nothing I can do to break up Finn and Quinn. I realized this before, of course, because I did bring up the idea of singing this song to Quinn after Coach Sylvester exposed her pregnancy, but the idea is firmly engrained in my brain now.

It is not a happy thought—not in the slightest, because it makes my heart twist in knots and my eyes tingle with unshed tears, but Glee is important.

More important than getting together with Finn, because I believe that the betterment of my career as a singer will be more rewarding in the long run than being with Finn. Not to say both are not rewarding, because they are.

I shake myself out of those thoughts as the opening strains of the song begin, and I push myself into the song. I feel different in this song than I did during _Don't Stop Believin_'. During that song, I concentrated on the chemistry between Finn and I and the unique thrill of being the star. During this song—and all the other songs we sing as a group, without any one lead singer—I feel a part of something. I feel connected to the kids of Glee club, which is something I regrettably do not feel outside of the club.

There is a connection when I sing, and that is precisely why I adore it so. While my talent might alienate those very people I sing with outside of Glee, making it hard for them to develop a friendship with me, my talent is precisely what brings us together on stage.

And I love it.

The song winds to a close. Mr. Schue spends a few moments telling us what we need to work on, the choreography Matt and Mike haven't quite gotten down, a few notes that were rather flat, and then dismisses us.

As usual, I head slowly to my spot and gather up my things. My sheet music goes in my bag, neatly tucked away in its folder so that it doesn't run the risk of getting crumpled or torn. I close up my bag and sling it across my shoulder.

I am not surprised to see that I am the last to leave. Only Mr. Schue is still here, but he is about to leave. He is already halfway to the door.

"Hey, Mr. Schue," I call.

Mr. Schue turns. "Yes, Rachel?"

"I like everything we're doing so far," I say, "but we have to try a lot harder if we want to win."

I give him some suggestions as to how we can make our team better than it is. He listens patiently, but I can tell that his eyes are glazing over and he stares anxiously at the clock. About five minutes into my diatribe about the merit of switching Brittany and Santana's positions in the back of the group, he stops me.

"Thank you for the suggestions, Rachel," Mr. Schue says. "I really appreciate them, but I have to get back to my wife. We can talk about this more before class tomorrow, if you'd like."

"Thanks, Mr. Schue," I say and smile at him brilliantly.

"Bye," he says.

"Goodbye, Mr. Schuester," I reply.

I watch him go. I wait and stay in the practice room a little while longer. My fingers run along the piano, and I smile wistfully.

My dream is right here in this room.

I know, I can _feel_, that if I just try hard enough, my dreams can come true. Glee club is just the start. If New Directions wins Sectionals as a fledgling group, the two leads—Finn and I—will be thrust into the public eye (or the eye of the musical theater mavens, at least, which is close enough for me).

Rachel Berry, famous Broadway star.

My smile grows bigger. I kiss my fingertips and press them to the piano. Then I turn to leave, shooting one last look around the practice room that is preparing me for my dreams, one small step at a time.

* * *

Quinn has moved into Finn's house.

I hear the news as soon as I walk into school on the Tuesday that marks the beginning of the fifth week preceding Sectionals. The news comes after we are set to do ballads in Glee and I am assigned to work with Mr. Schue, since one of the football guys—Matt or Mike, I can't remember which—is in the hospital because he has a spider or something in his ear.

"Yeah, I heard that her parents, like, disowned her or _something _because she's pregnant," a freshman girl in the upper echelons of the social hierarchy mutters to her friend as I walk by. "Finn was there and he, like, told them in song or something—yeah, I know, what an _embarrassment_—but anyway, they got all upset and ordered her out."

I falter in my steps as I hear this news. My heart twists painfully. It's not just because Finn and Quinn are now going to be closer than ever, although that is the major reason. It is because Quinn is in Glee, and she's going through a lot. She doesn't need to be going through any more than she already is.

I feel—sympathy?

In that moment, I know what I must do.

Carefully wiping all emotion from my face, I march up to the girl. "Excuse me," I say politely, and the girl and her friend turn to me.

"What do you want?" the girl sneers.

Yeah, she's probably heard about—if not seen—my Slushie facials. Not to mention, she probably knows I'm in Glee, but I don't let her preconceived notions about my so-called popularity and subsequent worth hinder my words.

"Where did you hear that about Quinn Fabray?" I ask in as polite a tone as I can muster.

"Why do you care?" the girl asks.

"Yeah," her friend chimes in. "I heard that you have this major crush on Finn Hudson. So why do you care about what happens to his girlfriend?"

"Because we're both in Glee," I say, giving the two girls a sugary sweet smile. "And Glee is like _family _to me."

"Incestuous family," the girl mutters.

All right, no more nice Rachel.

Although I'm still not quite sure why I'm doing this—Rachel Berry is not the sort of gung-ho, confrontational girl when it comes to high school drama (that's Mercedes' job, all the way)—I lean in and glare at the two girls. My voice is low, and I am surprised to find that it is rather threatening.

"Unless you want Brittany and Santana to permanently scar your oh-so-precious high school reputations, I'd advise you tell me where you heard this."

The two girls shoot each other a look.

Of course. Playing the reputation card always works.

(I am not quite sure why, frankly. I would rather be unpopular in high school because I spent all my time practicing for my rise to fame once I get a chance to head to Broadway and get discovered, but the average high-schooler does not seem to realize that popularity is fleeting and is rather unfulfilling in the end.)

"Fine," the girl says sulkily, shooting a glance at her friend. "We heard it from a Cheerio on the team, who heard it from Brittany, who heard it from that Jewfro guy. And apparently that weird Jewfro guy was stuck in one of the lockers and overheard Finn talking about it to Quinn this morning."

Yeah, it obviously went back to Jacob Ben-Israel.

I roll my eyes.

"Thanks," I say in an unappreciative tone and stalk away from them.

About halfway down the hallway, I realize that going after Jacob is not going to help Quinn or Finn's situation. Sure, Jacob will probably post all about the scandal on his blog tonight—I will have to check it when I get home—but there's not much I could do to help. All I could do was insert myself into the situation.

Which is the last thing I want to do because it is the last thing that would be helpful.

So I do a quick about face, heading toward the practice room for the early morning Glee practice. I push the door open hesitantly, only to find someone already sitting there. His back is to me, but I could place that mohawk anywhere.

I hesitate in the doorway.

Noah is plucking at the strings of his guitar, not even singing, not even playing a recognizable tune, just creating random music. The tune is barely a tune, cheery and sad and angry and contradictory to all that in just a few chords.

He stops playing.

I take a small step into the room, my black ballet flats making no noise against the floor. When he resumes playing, the music has taken on a tune. This time, it is entirely angry, all long riffs and quick notes. The music takes on a life of its own, summoning up images to my mind, unbidden and unwanted.

I suddenly feel as though I have intruded on something very personal. It reminds me of our conversation on the bleachers, when he stormed away from me after I asked if we could be friends. It reminds me of the looks he gives Quinn when neither of them—Finn or Quinn—are looking or when they are completely wrapped up in each other.

His feelings are completely different from my own, I realize. While I feel like bursting into tears whenever I see them together, his eyes narrow. His hands clench into fists. He stares—more like glares, actually—at them during Glee practice as they cuddle and act like the sickeningly sweet couple they are. His expression softens whenever Quinn looks at him, but he still seems perpetually moody nowadays.

Not to mention, as soon as Quinn leaves Glee practice on her own, Noah finds a reason to leave with her.

I can't help but feel that there is something going on between the two of them, something different than the admittedly clichéd "can't get the girl" stereotype. It is something completely different from the way I want Finn so badly my chest hurts and the only thing that can solve the hurt is to sing softly lilting melodies in the loneliness of my pink bedroom.

My naturally nosy instinct kicks in here, and I try as hard as I can to push it back.

It is now none of my business what is going on with Noah and Quinn—not that there is anything going on with them. I just can't think about Noah when I have enough problems on my mind at the moment, not the least of which is the pressure I am under to get New Directions in proper singing order for Sectionals.

I shake myself out of these thoughts only to find that Noah is still playing, but with deliberate calmness, his calloused fingers plucking the strings in order to give off angry notes lingering in the air.

"Hey, Rachel!"

I wince at the sound of Finn's voice behind me, even though my heart pounds hard and fast inside my chest. Noah's shoulders stiffen and his fingers still on the chords. For a moment, he doesn't turn, but then he does. Our eyes meet for a quick second, but then I face Finn.

"Hey, Finn," I say, trying to inject as much happiness into my voice as possible. "How's it going?"

"Pretty good," Finn says. I know he doesn't mean it, though, because he seems rather down. His shoulders are slightly stooped, which only makes him slightly less gargantuan than usual. And his eyes seem rather sad, which is something not many people notice, but when you sing with a guy for months, staring into his eyes while you do so, you notice more about the nuances in his eyes and his body movements than normal.

"I heard about Quinn," I say, temporarily ignoring Noah.

"Yeah," Finn says, a little less cheery than usual. "Quinn's parents kicked her out of her house, so my mother is letting her stay with us."

"I'm sorry," I offer.

Noah lets out a derisive noise from behind me, but I ignore him.

"I know how hard this situation must be for you," I continue. "Obviously I have never been in this situation, but I know that you might need someone to lean on. Other than Quinn, of course. And I mean purely platonically, as I know that you are still in love with Quinn and I would never want to adversely affect your relationship with her, especially in her expectant state."

Oh, I am such a little liar. Passing myself off as a purely platonic friend.

But at least it gives me practice for when I am a star and need to lie—or omit some facets of the truth—in certain interviews.

"Um, sure," Finn says, and I know that he probably only understood ten percent of what I said, if that much. "Whatever."

"Hey, guys!" Mr. Schue's cheery voice calls to us.

"Hey, Mr. Schue!" I greet as he walks into the room, arms laden with papers. He walks over to the piano, dumps them all on it, and then sits down on the bench and faces us. I notice Noah sulking in the corner.

"What's up, Mr. Schue?" Finn asks.

"Just some extra songs to practice," Mr. Schue says. "For those of us who have to work on our vocal ranges."

"Good idea," I praise.

As usual, Mr. Schue and I get into a discussion about Sectionals, while Finn goes to sit next to Noah. Out of one ear, I pay attention to what they're saying, noticing that Noah is just giving monosyllabic answers, not seeming all that interested. Finn is going on about something—probably Quinn—and Noah rolls his eyes every few seconds.

Five minutes later, everyone arrives, and Glee practice gets underway. I dedicate myself to practice, but I can't help my eyes traveling to Finn, a tear-stained Quinn, and a moody Noah.

_High school_. I never would have expected it would be this complicated. Who would've thought I would be part of a love quadrangle?

Certainly not me.

And it's certainly not as glamorous as they make it out to be.

* * *

It is three days later, when I am standing at my locker, that Noah comes up beside me. He plucks out the book I had been trying to get out of the top of my locker for the past five minutes and hands it to me.

"Berry."

I look up at him. "Hello, Noah," I say. "Thank you for getting my book."

Noah shrugs. "Don't think any of it."

I nod. "Don't worry. I wasn't going to."

"But I think we could be friends," he says. "You know, just to make Glee easier and all that shit."

For a moment, all I can do is stare.

Then I blink.

"Are you sure?"

"Don't make me say it again, Berry." He grins. "Think of this as my favor to you, all right. I don't create conflict in your precious Glee club and we can get along. You can actually talk to me instead of lurking behind me while I practice."

I look down for a second, then lift my eyes. I stuff my book in my bag and shift it further up on my shoulder. I look Noah up and down, surveying him, and then I nod.

"All right, Noah," I say. "We can be friends."

Noah just nods. Without another word, he turns and walks away, leaving me standing in the hallway by myself. I watch him go.

I can't help but wonder what brought about this sudden change of heart, but then again, I can't say I'm complaining either.

* * *

**Author's Note**: Next chapter will see more of Puck's perspective on the events of this chapter and will explore more of his "change of heart." Not to mention, a twist on the events of "Wheels," so stay tuned.

I know this chapter is extremely long(-winded), but that's Rachel for you. She's just very, very, very, very, very, very (you get the picture) verbose. Next chapter will be slightly shorter, and hopefully it won't take as much time to write.

Please review? Thank you!


End file.
